Moving Backwards
by ciao-choker
Summary: Julian has returned from filming once more, and Logan has quite frankly had enough of his absence. Their relationship has reached a boiling point and emotions are running high.  Rated M for language/future chapters. CP COULTER OWNS JULIAN AND LOGAN
1. Scarves

The warm firelight from the hearth of the Stuart House common room flickered against the cold features of the room's only inhabitant. Normally, the commons were buzzing with overly-caffeinated students working diligently on their latest assignment. Not tonight. It was 3:30 am on a solemn and bleak Friday morning, and John Logan Wright III sat here, alone, in an oversized armchair, a hand pressed against his lips in contemplation. 3:30 am. And it was only getting later…

Logan was exhausted. He truly was. Not only had he been awake since five in the morning the previous day (making his time spent conscious almost a grueling and draining twenty-four hours), he was emotionally spent, as well. You see, every morning when he awoke, he faced the same internal question: to take them, or not to take them? And by "them", of course, he meant his medication to regulate his moods. It was a different answer each time; all relevant to what he knew he would have to deal with in the day to come. As torn as he was between loathing the immaculate numbness induced by the medication, and the overwhelming rage and melancholy felt in their absence, it was never he who made the decision.

It was _them_.

For some time, it was Kurt who made this decision for him. Logan saw him every other day – minimum – in Warbler rehearsal, and the occasional time throughout the campus of Dalton Academy. On those days, he would take them for Kurt's sake – he hated for Kurt to see the raw and unforgiving monsters that would rear their gruesome heads without the ease and restraint of the medication. But that didn't matter anymore. Not after their huge blowout a few months back. Logan had given up on Kurt after that – Kurt, the one person who made him _feel_. Kurt only wanted Blaine, and that was made perfectly clear that night. Moreso than it already was. Logan had since ceased living for the countertenor. He took his medication almost daily now, preferring the emptiness to the overwhelming emotion brought to light without them.

But, today was different. Logan didn't take them today. It wasn't his decision, like usual. But it wasn't Kurt's this time, either. It was the only other person he could tolerate enough to admit he cared for – it was _his_ decision.

Julian's decision.

Julian Armstrong-Larson hated the medicated glaze in Logan's usually smoldering green eyes almost as much as Logan himself did. Anytime Julian noticed that shiny glare in his eye – his unnaturally calm demeanor – he would scoff, mumbling something or other about how weak Logan was. This did nothing short of pissing Logan off, and today, he told himself, was going to be a good day. He didn't want to fight with Julian about his medication. Not today. Thus, Julian decided Logan wouldn't medicate today.

Why was today meant to be a good day? Today was the day Julian was to return to Dalton after filming the newest episodes of _Something Damaged. _Or, at least, he was supposed to be returning. The day had waned on into night, and night into morning, and as Logan sat by the fire waiting, he was beginning to regret not taking his medication. The unwanted emotion bubbling in his chest was freaking him out – it was draining him.

"Fuck it," he mumbled to the fire, the light glinting dangerously in his emerald eyes. It was now nearing 4 am and Logan had had enough. What was this? Wasting precious time and sleep on this lying son of a bitch? No. Not anymore. With a large huff of air, he pulled himself up from the deep leather armchair, tugging his uniform straight, save his tie, which he had already loosened and was now hanging lazily around the House Prefect's neck. He had just turned his back to the fire, facing the stairs to the sleeping quarters of Stuart, when he heard a creaking and cracking of the large wooden entrance doors to the House, followed by a chilling wind.

Logan's head snapped around quickly to the source of the noise, his stormy gaze falling on one Julian Armstrong-Larson, just back from his three week engagement in Hollywood. He was wearing a black double-breasted jacket, a Dalton scarf tight around his neck and covered with tiny crystals of snow which were already beginning to melt against the roaring heat of the fire.

There was a loud _thud _as Julian's suitcases his the hardwood floor of the common room simultaneously. He didn't notice Logan until he had shaken out the melting snow from his brown locks and had began pulling his scarf loose from his neck. It was only then that he heard the dangerously quiet sound of the blonde boy's agitated voice.

"Welcome home."

Slightly startled, the movie star hurriedly turned around, only to be met with Logan's flustered gaze. His eyes swept over him, immediately gathering he was frustrated. He was far too easy to read.

"Logan," he greeted the teen boredly. "I didn't expect you to be conscious at this hour."

"Mm, nor did I," the blonde retorted as he watched the other pull the scarf off completely and drape it over one arm. "I was planning to sleep shortly after you arrived. 9 pm. Sharp. Remember?"

Julian eyes him incredulously, instantly realizing what this had to be about. Logan had been up waiting all night long like a worried parent after prom. But the look in Logan's eye wasn't worry. It was annoyance; he was extremely peeved, to say the least. Julian simply blew it off, picking up his suitcases at once.

"Yeah, I was a few hours late. What of it?" He flashed Logan his well-rehearsed million-dollar smile. "Is this your way of saying you missed me, Wright?" He asked in a slightly accusing tone, though he was certainly only teasing. Of course Logan didn't miss him – he simply didn't have the capacity to miss someone. _Anyone._

"Excuse me if I like to see my so called 'friends' every once in a while," he grumbled in response to the other's insinuation as he shuffled by him, snatching up the suitcase from his right hand to help carry his bags to his room.

Julian trotted alongside Logan up the wide, magnificent staircase in the direction of their parallel dorm rooms. Logan, thought having many, many stormy words for the other boy, remained uncharacteristically silent as they neared Julian's room, far too exhausted at this point to remember his heavily rehearsed rage for when he returned.

Julian eyed the blonde whimsically as he fumbled for his keys to unlock the door. Noting the close proximity Logan was standing to him, he smirked amusedly. "So, you _did _miss me then, hm?" he inquires as he swings the door wide open. Logan pushes past him with a scoff, slinging Julian's suitcase down onto the floor in front of him.

"The only thing that missed you," he began in a cool tone, "was your room. As prefect, my duties demanded I keep your room tidy during your absence," he explained haughtily. "So, please; squash your ego."

Julian merely rolled his eyes. Logan just never changed, did he? He was so predictable. _Too _predictable, really. Of _course_ he would have a response as snarky as that. Of _course_ he wouldn't willingly admit the real reason he had been sitting up all night waiting.

…Why _was _he up all night waiting?

The brunette moved to a plush white armchair near the entrance of the room as Logan leaned against the wall near the same door, arms crossed in an agitated manner. Julian didn't have to look up to know Logan's piercing green eyes had found and locked on him; he could _feel _them boring into his skin. Julian pressed a forefinger to his temple, tiredly leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair, eyes shut in exasperation and exhaustion.

"_Must_ you insist on staring at me, Logan? Why don't you go rummage through my belongings as you normally do when I return to Dalton?"

Those scorching greens narrowed to slits, his body remaining rigid against the wall. "What are you going off about now? I do no such thing," he retorted, casting his gaze briefly to Julian's suitcases. The owner of those suitcases merely chuckled, opening his eyes to glance amusedly at the other.

"Okay, Logan, because I definitely haven't caught you doing it before," he murmured, motioning with his free hand in Logan's direction. "For instance – are those not my Dunhill cufflinks your wrists are currently adorning?"

Logan subtly glanced down, slowly dipping his hands and wrists deeper into the crook of his elbows. "…once more, I've no idea what you're talking about."

Julian snickered as he sat up straighter with a disapproving shake of his head.

"Whatever you say, Logan."

"Don't patronize me."

"You're doing a fine job of that on your own, don't you think?"

Logan peeled himself from the wall, crossing to stand in front of Julian, peering down at him; arms uncrossing, hands dropping down to his side and balling into agitated fists. "Look, Julian. I'm fucking exhausted. Today has been long enough on its own without you coming home and immediately giving me hell for – "

"Aha! I was right. Those _are _my Dunhill cuffs," Julian noted, reaching straight out ahead of him to finger the cufflinks on Logan's left wrist.

At this touch, Logan jerks away slightly. "_Don't_ touch me," he snarled at the remarkably calm boy in the chair who didn't seem to notice Logan had tightly grabbed his wrist to stop his touch. Julian merely gazed up at him boredly. He was clearly very used to Logan's little outburst; they had stopped phasing him years ago.

"Ooh. Temper, temper…" he teased with another light chuckle, tugging his wrist and hand free. "Just admit it," He rose from his seated position, causing Logan to take a step back. "You enjoy going through my things."

The blonde followed him with his eyes as he made his way toward his suitcases. "Why would I enjoy going through _your_ things? I am a man of taste," he informed him, straightening his regal posture. "And you – you don't know the meaning of the word."

"Don't I?" Julian replied quietly, back still turned to him. He slowly pulls out a flowingly elegant, white, cashmere Loro Piani scarf. Pulling it from his bag, he stood from his knelt position, turning around to face Logan, whose hardened expression had transformed into one of awe at the sight: the scarf was absolutely stunning, and exactly Logan's style. He swallowed audibly.

"What's that, Jules?"

"Yours," Julian stated simply, tossing it unceremoniously into the other boys chest. Logan caught it, fingering the unbelievably velveteen material. It was perfect. Not to mention, it meant Julian had to have been thinking of him when he got it. No one did things like that for Logan, and he appreciated it. A smile tugged at his lips and left as soon as it came at the thought of that alone. He clears his throat.

"Thanks, but no thanks. This is hideous," he lies blatantly, his expression rigid once more as e throws it back in Julian's direction. "It doesn't even suit me. And frankly, it doesn't much flatter you, either. I suggest giving it to Derek, or something."

"Derek doesn't wear scarves." Julian frowns.

"Right."

Logan snatches the scarf back, gazing down at it almost affectionately. "In that case…" His voice drops to one just above a whisper. "I'll just give it to Kurt."

Julian's warm gaze turned icey at mention of Logan's fellow Warbler. "Kurt? Oh."

"Yes, Kurt," he responded coolly, folding the scarf up and placing it carelessly in an inner pocket of his blazer, eyes locked on Julian's. "You say that like it surprises you. You know how I feel about –"

"I know."

Logan raises an eyebrow at Julian's sudden shortness. He had been teasing him since he arrived, and suddenly he appeared to want nothing else to do with him.

"…right," Logan mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. "Um, well. I've been up all night waiting on your slow ass to get here. I'm gonna, uh, head to bed."

He turned around to face the door, only able to take a few steps toward it before being forced to pause.

"Like hell you are," Julian hissed.

Logan spun around. "_Excuse me?" _He asked incredulously.

"Give me that scarf back."

"Fuck you, no. You already gave it to me."

"Yeah, I gave it to you. Not Kurt," Julian extended his hand expectantly.

Logan scoffed and turned back around wordlessly, heading toward the door again. Julian didn't take too well to this. He stormed up after Logan, who by this point had the door open. He reached ahead of him, pushing it shut roughly.

"_Give me the scarf, Logan." _

Julian's tone took the blonde off guard. He never used such a harsh tone with Logan. Ever. Unless they were fighting. Which they weren't. Logan cocked an eyebrow, wondering why their vibes had suddenly turned sour.

"No."

Julian growled at this answer, reaching inside of Logan's blazer and fishing for the scarf unsuccessfully.

"What the hell, Julian? Get the fuck off of me!" Logan screeched, raising both arms to shove him away with open palms. Julian stumbled backward empty handed, crashing into a chair with the force. He immediately rebounded, back on his feet in seconds.

"I didn't spend hundreds of dollars on that for you to turn around and give it to someone who doesn't even care about you, Logan. You doing this isn't going to make him want you like you seem to think it will."

Logan's eyes narrowed, the tiredness that shone from them earlier disappearing, replaced with a seething annoyance instead. "You like to humor the idea that you know what goes on in my life. You don't," he snaps, advancing toward him. "Maybe if you stayed here for more than a fucking day you might, but no. You always run off and leave me here. Alone. You know _nothing._ Now. If you'll excuse me," he grumbled, making his way toward the door once more.

"You think I want to just up and leave you all the time? God," he laughed dryly, "It takes you weeks to get over yourself when I finally come back. And right when we're finally good again, my schedule forces me away. Then I get to come home and do it all over again. You think that's fun for me?" Logan opened his mouth to speak, turning around from where he was stopped in his tracks listening, but was cut off once more by him. "Not to mention the last few times I've come back, your head has been so far up Kurt's ass, you haven't even had the time to be upset that I've been gone, you – "

"What is your hold up with Kurt, Julian? Jesus, that's, like, the hundredth time you've mentioned him in the last twenty seconds. If I remember correctly, you're one of the biggest advocates of getting us together." Logan eyed him, waiting on an explanation. Julian said nothing, simply dropping his gaze to the floor. Logan noticed this vulnerability and pounced on it hungrily. "I'm waiting, Larson." He prompts, stepping toward him.

Julian rolls his eyes, his expression returning to its usual annoyance once more. "There's no hold up, Logan. God, how can you be so fucking dense? That wasn't even the point of what I was saying! But, of course, you latch on to that part. Because I was talking about _him._ Case and point," he grumbled, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything. Keep the scarf. I don't care. Give it to Kurt. Make _him_ happy."

The prefect simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had been prepared to raise hell on Julian as soon as he saw him, but he hadn't. Instead, Julian was giving him all the hell in the world and about _Kurt_ nonetheless. Kurt. The Kurt he had recently given up on. And now he had to rehash this all over again, via Julian.

"I will," Logan responds coolly, appearing in such a way that he wasn't angry at all in the midst of regaining his regal posture and composure. He didn't bother to mention he and Kurt hadn't spoken in months. "And he will look absolutely _ravishing_ in it. All thanks to me and my fabulous taste."

Julian's face was red with rage and distaste at this point but he couldn't go back on what he said, no matter how much the thought of Kurt in possession of that scarf ate him up inside. He knew if he ever saw Kurt actually wearing it, he'd probably rip it from his neck right then and there.

"You do that," he states simply. "And get the hell out of my room."

He didn't have to ask Logan twice. He turned on his heels, balling up his fists by his sides as he stormed from the room, slamming the door hard behind him. The paintings on Julian's wall shook with the force and one even fell off from its holder. He heard Julian curse Logan loudly and smirked a wicked smirk as he slammed his own door, hoping Julian would hear and it would only cause him more agitation.

There was so much shit running through his exhausted mind that he could hardly stand it. It had taken every single ounce of self control in him – which wasn't much – not to lay Julian out as soon as he brought Kurt into the conversation. So, instead, the decorative and very expensive antique record player on his wardrobe ended up being the direction his frustration was taken out. He picked it up and slung it hard against the near wall, letting out a loud grunt as he did so. The player promptly splintered and shattered into pieces as Logan huffed angrily. It hardly helped his situation.

He quickly shrugged off his blazer, letting it fall to the floor. He flung his tie from his neck, throwing it down beside the blazer before throwing himself down onto his bed, face down, much like a child who didn't get his way. Breathing heavily into his pillow, he tried to relax himself to no avail. It was now 5:23 am, and he was growing more frustrated by the second, realizing he was meant to wake in two hours for class.

His eyelids were closing against his will. Sleep was trying to take him. But his mind was refusing to let it happen. He let out an agitated, muffled scream into his pillow before flipping over roughly onto his back, staring up into the neverending darkness of his ceiling. After a few moments of lying in silence, he slowly sat up, letting out a loud sigh. He reached beside his bed on the floor, aimlessly feeling around until he felt his blazer. His heart rate increased as he slowly slid his hand inside, his fingers brushing against that beautiful and now familiar softness of the scarf. With a sharp intake of breath, he slowly pulls it out and up onto the bed with him.

He layed back onto the bed, leaning on his side. Closing his eyes heavily, he clutches the scarf to his chest, arms tight around it. His mind seemed to quiet down, and it frightened him. This sort of peace only found him when he was heavily medicated. As he inhaled deeply, he breathed in Julian's cologne which he assumed was on the scarf from being mixed in with Julian's clothes for so long. He didn't mind. Not at all. Actually, he liked it, he thought. This thought plagued him, but also lulled him into the most pacific slumber he'd experienced in the last few years.

And everything was alright in this moment.


	2. One Pill Makes You Larger

It seemed only a swift second that Logan's eyes had shut before they were bloodshot and forced wide open at the screeching sound of his alarm clock waking him for his first class of the day. He slapped the alarm clocks button to turn it off before he allowed his eyes to pull themselves closed again. It was far too early and far too soon for him to be awake, he thought.

With a soft groan, he turned over onto his other side, intent on ditching his classes and catching up on the precious sleep so rudely stolen from him the previous night. As he did so, the scarf he had been almost desperately clutching in his sleep fell loose from his grasp and tickled his arm. His eyes darted wide open and he slowly blinked down at the velveteen material snaking its way around his forearm. He growled low in his throat and flung it off of him in one swift motion, watching as it caught the corner of a nearby chair and fell limp onto the floor. It was only then he remembered why he had lost so much sleep to begin with.

"Julian."

He snarled the vile word. The name tasted like filth on his lips and Logan spat as he sat up, running his fingers roughly through his unkempt hair that still had traces of hardened hair gel which he had neglected to wash out from the previous night. There was no way he could just go back to sleep now. Not a chance. His first class was with that fucker and he knew if he didn't show up, Julian would give him hell for the rest of eternity; he'd be called weak, childish – unable to handle his own emotions and relationships.

'_You can't just sleep your way through life, Logan." _He could almost hear Julian's smooth and condescending tone now.

With a louder groan than before, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and rubbed his eyes. It was that time again; the morning. It was time to let someone decide if he was to medicate today. He reached into his nightstand, blindly fishing around for the bottle of pills. His fingers wrapped around the familiar plastic after a moment and he began to think about the day ahead – what would he have to face?

The only compromising event he could think of was facing Julian. He knew all of the snarky comments he'd be hearing; all of the disgusted looks he'd certainly be receiving. He definitely did not want to deal with that. Not today. He didn't even care if Julian noticed the glare in his eyes from the medication and gave him shit. So long as he didn't have to deal with the mounting emotions brought forth from such words and stares. He simply didn't care. With a roll of his reddened eyes he popped open the bottle, tilting it and allowing two yellow pills to fall into his palm, which he immediately brought to his mouth. He swallowed hard, letting the bitterness roll down his throat. He put the top back on and shoved the slender bottle carelessly back into the drawer of his nightstand.

Julian had made Logan's decision.

The blonde stood reluctantly, shuffling into his private bathroom to take a shower in hopes of waking up a bit more as he waited for his medication to take effect. He turned on the water and began to undress while allowing the water to heat up. As he peeled off what he hadn't discarded of his crumpled uniform the previous night, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. What he saw enraged him: he could see the emotions from the past night all over his face – even in his body. His posture was slumped, his eyes sunken in and brilliant red. The color in his face had seemingly taken refuge in his eyes as his pale complexion was even more bleak than usual. He couldn't stand the sight.

He grumbled an almost inaudible string of curses before peeling his eyes away and stepping into the scalding stream of water, hissing a bit as it hit his cooled skin, turning it a slight red from the heat. As the water rushed over him, trickling through his hair, down his neck and rigid body, he breathed in a sigh of relief. The filth from yesterday's happenings was washing away with the rushing water and it felt good; every trace of Julian's presence disappearing with every burst of water from the shower.

He doused his palms with shampoo and raised his arms to begin washing his hair. With an invigorating breath, he began running his fingers through his stiff blonde locks, only to be met with the overpowering scent of Julian's cologne clinging to his forearm where the scarf had so faithfully clung during his slumber. His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt ill. Very ill. Immediately, he reached for his body wash and began diligently scrubbing his arm where the smell arose from, frowning deeply. It wasn't coming off. He scrubbed and scraped until his skin was red and raw from ferocious cleaning; he even broke the skin slightly. As blood rose to the surface, he gave up with a loud curse on Julian's name and hurriedly cleaned the rest of himself before stepping from the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

He gave himself another look in the mirror post-shower: his posture was straight now and the coloring had returned to his face. He looked clean and refreshed and overwhelmingly calm. And his eyes; his eyes were still red, yes, but they weren't so emotionally powered. They weren't anything, in fact. They were glazed over. They were calm. They were still. They were medicated.

With a loud sigh, he made his way back into his bedroom to begin dressing himself. He moved to his weekday wardrobe and pulled out one of his school uniforms, laying it out flat against his couch. He could hear the early-risers of Stuart bustling about in the hallways, making their way to their coffee supply. He glanced at his door with a frown before moving to his vanity and slicking his wet, blonde hair down against his head, boredly gazing into his own eyes as he did so. He stood once more, moving to pull on his slacks, followed by his white button-up shirt. He tucked the shirt tightly into his pants before buttoning them up and tightening his belt around his waist. He scooped up the blazer, pulling it on loosely and stepping into his shoes simultaneously. With a final glance into his mirror, he sighed and turned toward his door, resting his hand on the handle.

_Here we go._

He twisted the handle and pushed the door open into the hallway, striding out with his head held high. His eyes flickered over to Julian's door, where a light was streaming brightly from underneath it. Julian was still in there. Normally, now is the time Logan would open his door, rush him along so they could walk to class together as the fearless duo they were. That thought made him sick this morning, however. He simply rolled his eyes and continued on past the door and down the stairs.

"What's hap'nin', L?"

Logan's head snapped around, slightly startled by the voice addressing him. He let out a sigh of relief recognizing Derek's face catching up behind him. He turned back around.

"Morning, Derek," he responded in a hushed tone.

"Dude, you look like shit," Derek observed, making a slight face at him, which was met with Logan's best death glare. Derek turned his gaze straight again. "I'm just sayin'…"

"I didn't sleep at all last night," Logan explained simply. "I don't doubt that I look as awful as I feel."

"No wonder. I went outside to call April… or, uh, Stephanie? No, no it was Amber. Or was it Amelia? Yeah. It was her. No, wait, it was Sara—"

"Get to the point."

Derek clears his throat. "Right. Anyway. I was going outside to call… my girlfriend and I saw you nearly passed out in the common room," he shifted his backpack over his shoulder, looking over to Logan. "Does whatever you were doing down there have to do with you not sleeping?"

Logan was silent for a moment. "No."

"Oh," Derek breathed out. "Well, you're obviously not going to tell me, so…" They walk in silence for a few steps before a light seems to go off in his head. "Oh! Julian got back last night. You seen 'im yet?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

Derek frowned. Logan was being awfully short with him. He subtly leaned over a bit to catch a glimpse of his facial expression, noticing his eyes. _It all made sense. _

"Right," Derek nodded as they approached their classroom. "Well, I guess we'll be seeing him again in a bit! As soon as his slow ass decides to come to Chemistry," he chuckled.

Logan's face remained rigid as he gave a slight nod. His medication had taken full effect now and he could care less for Derek's ramblings. He was exhausted and he was drained. All he wanted was for his classes to be over so he could go back to sleep and dream away this awful, bleary Friday.

They took their usual seats beside each other near the back of the classroom. Derek immediately pulled out his cell phone, holding it in his lap and texting one of the women that had his attentions at the moment. Logan simply stared into nothingness – well, more precisely he was staring at the door to the classroom; or, staring through it, really, as they waited for their professor to make his entrance.

His listless stare was broken by the sight of the movie star strutting into the classroom looking as charming as ever. His brown hair was slicked down onto his head and his uniform was without a single crease or wrinkle. He looked simply immaculate, and as if he had slept for a full 8 hours, which Logan knew wasn't true. Logan's green eyes followed Julian as he moved about the room, flashing his glowing smile to his adoring classmates as he moved gracefully through the crowd, acknowledging their gawks. He wasn't always received this way when he returned to Dalton, and he soaked in every moment that he was.

With his smile ever plastered over his features, Julian took his seat beside Derek. Logan stiffened on the opposite side of Derek, casting his gaze forward onto his notebook in front of him on the table.

"Morning, Derek!" Julian greeted cheerily.

Derek looked up from his phone, offering up a grin. "What's up, Jules, my man?" He gave him a slight clap on his arm before dropping his gaze back to his phone. Julian smiled down at Derek almost endearingly before his gaze fell to the boy on the other side of his friend, his expression dropping.

"Logan," he greeted sternly. Logan didn't look up. Julian rolled his eyes and turned forward again, gazing about the room and tapping the end of his pencil against the table. "Mm, it's good to be back. Fame is so exhausting. It's nice to be back here with you guys sometimes. Living a normal life, you know? Just sitting in a classroom… finer things in life, really," Julian mused softly, mainly to himself.

Derek put his phone away, looking back up to his friend. "Seriously. We miss you around here when you're gone, man. It's so boring without my two dudes around me," he supplies, putting his arms around both Julian and Logan's shoulders, sighing contentedly. "The boys are back in business!"

Logan grunted and pulled out of Derek's grasp, rolling his shoulders a bit. Derek frowned and leaned closer to Julian. "What crawled up his ass and died?" He whispered, jerking his thumb in Logan's direction.

Julian shrugged one shoulder lightly. "You know how Logan is," he answered, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

"Will the both of you shut up? I'm sitting right beside you, you know," Logan grumbled, glowering at Derek in particular, avoiding Julian's eyes.

Julian chuckled. "He asked. I'm just answering."

"Yeah, well, your input is certainly unwanted," Logan remarks bitterly, turning forward again.

"If you don't want to hear, don't listen," Julian retorts, leaning forward to gaze around Derek and look at Logan.

"It's kind of hard to do that when you're sitting a foot away, talking shit to my best friend about me."

"Why so touchy this morning?" Julian inquired with a hint of knowing amusement in his tone. "You look like you didn't sleep a wink."

Logan merely sneered and remained silent. Julian was doing was he did best; be an asshole. An intentional one. And Logan could tell his friend believed he had the upper hand. Logan didn't care. Not with the heavy amounts of medicine coursing through him that he took for this very reason.

"Did you forget your medicine today?" Julian asked in a taunting tone. He was intentionally trying to push Logan. The Prefect's fists balled up on the table, but he said nothing. Derek gawked at Julian. Normally they never brought up Logan's medication. Not in public, anyhow. Derek was beginning to pick up something was going on – if the obvious tension between the two wasn't apparent enough. He sat back awkwardly, pretending to click at his phone as he listened.

Julian frowned when Logan didn't respond to his provocation. He did notice the way his hands curled into fists, however, and his eyes rested on those. He opened his mouth to make a comment before noticing the red marks up and down his forearm from his vigorous scrubbing in the shower in an attempt to free himself of Julian's scent. The celebrity reached quickly across Derek and grabbed Logan's arm.

"The hell is that?" He asked accusingly, eyeing the marks.

Logan jerked his arm back, placing it back onto the table where it was. "Nothing. And don't touch me."

Julian sat back a bit, eyes still locked on him. "That's not '_nothing_', Logan. Don't tell me you cut yourself or some shit."

"Would you leave it, Julian?" Logan snapped back, only now gazing up to meet Julian's eyes. "I slept weird last night and the blanket rubbed me wrong. I don't _cut_ myself, Jule. I'm not that stupid," he grumbled truthfully.

Julian noticed the glare in Logan's eyes and scoffed. "Oh. You _didn't_ forget your medicine. I see that now."

Derek looked up from his phone without lifting his head to look into Logan's eyes at this comment. He was right.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I'm really not in the mood for this."

"I wasn't in the mood for your ambush last night, but hey – you can't always get what you want."

Logan's face was beginning to turn red with rage. He had taken his medication to prevent this from happening, but Julian was just finding a way to do it to him anyway, almost as if he _knew _exactly what he was doing to him – as if this were some kind of _game_ to him, which only made Logan even more enraged. He took a deep, shuddering breath to calm and distract himself. It was at this time their professor strode into the room, much to Logan's thanks. Julian would shut up now. Hopefully.

"Damn, dude, what the hell happened with you and Logan? That class was almost painful having to sit between that much tension," Derek murmured as they exited the classroom alone. Logan had stood as soon as the bell rang and bolted from the room without a word, and without them.

Julian smiled almost wickedly. "Nothing happened. He missed me. And he doesn't want to admit it."

Derek quirked an eyebrow. "Missed you?"

"Yep. He was up all night waiting on me last night. I got back late and he got all clingy-girlfriend on me or something. Kinda like, uh, whatsername? Stephanie? Sarah?"

"That's a terribly analogy. And, nah. April is the clingy one."

"Right. Well he was acting like her. And I called him out on it," Julian shrugged. "He got all defensive. I was just like, 'dude, chill the fuck out.' And he didn't like that too much apparently."

"Apparently…" Derek echoed. "So is that why he didn't sleep last night then? He was too peeved with you?"

Julian tilted his head. "He didn't sleep?"

"Doesn't look like he did. You saw him. He never looks that awful."

"Mm," Julian responded, pondering the thought. "Well, it could be because he didn't leave my room until, like, 5 in the morning."

"So you didn't sleep either, then?"

Julian looked over to him once before shrugging one shoulder. "I slept like a baby."

"But he was in your room unti—"

"…Like a baby," Julian repeated. Derek dropped it.

"See you after class?" Derek prompted as he ducked out of the hallway and into his next class.

"Right. See ya."

Julian continued down the hall a few steps, only to be stopped by a cool tone coming from behind him. A tone that he was all too familiar with

"Why'd you do that?"

Julian turned around to be met with a rather calm Logan.

"Why did I do what?"

Logan groaned and grabbed Julian by the arm of his blazer, tugging him into a private crevice of the corridor. He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one had followed before turning back to him, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"Mention my medication. In the middle of class."

"Class hadn't even start—"

Logan waved him off. "Doesn't matter. There were people in there."

Julian frowned, crossing his arms as well and mirroring Logan's stance.

"I didn't think it would bother you tha—"

"It did."

Julian's frown deepened. "If you weren't being such a tool maybe I—"

"I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. You wouldn't even look at me."

"Cause you know better than to run your mouth like that."

"Don't talk to me as if I am a child, you—"

"You are."

"Will you stop interrupting me? This is why we always fight. You never let me talk. And when we _do_ talk, you never tell me the truth. Like this—" He grabbed Logan's arm again. "—What the hell is that? Seriously."

Logan jerked his arm back again, resting it back where it was across his chest. "I already told—"

"No, you didn't tell me anything. You lied about it. You have yet to tell me the truth."

"I _did _tell you the truth—"

"Logan."

Logan's blank eyes looked into Julian's earnest ones. "What?" He hissed.

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell, Julian. Jesus, you are thick headed."

"Will you just tell me the truth for once? Seriously! Would it fucking kill you to—"

They both looked upward as the bell rang for their next class. Logan sighed and broke his gaze with Julian's.

"Look, I'm gonna get going." Logan pushed himself off of the wall and turned to exit the hallway.

"Will I see you after class?"

The Prefect froze in his tracks at Julian's question. His eyes shut momentarily before he takes another step.

"No."

The brunette watched as Logan disappeared around the bend of the empty hallway, sighing defeatedly as he slumped back against the wall. This would be harder than he once thought. Though Logan said 'no', Julian knew this wasn't over. It would _never_ be over.


	3. And One Pill Makes You Small

**A/N: **Thank you to the few reviewers I've had! I've had many, many hits on my story, but scarce reviewing, which makes me wonder; what do you all think so far? Without reviews and criticism, I'm unsure how exactly you all feel about this. Please review, if you have the time! Criticism is welcomed, as long as it's constructive, of course. I appreciate your input more than you know. I'd like to know how my readers are feeling at this point. Thanks in advance! xx

Much to Julian's dismay, Logan meant it when he said he wouldn't be seeing Julian again after class. The rest of the day, Logan was nowhere to be seen. Not even at lunch period, where the trio always ate together in the memorial garden behind Hanover. When Julian approached the garden, a bottle of water in one hand and an apple in the other, he frowned when the only person he saw sitting on their bench was Derek.

He took a step forward, eyeing the perimeter subtly, searching for another sign of life.

"Logan's a no-show, then?" He inquired as he took a seat beside Derek, who was munching happily on his second slice of pizza.

Derek looked up, crumbs tumbling rudely from his lips as he spoke. "Nope," he swallowed hard, reaching for his soda bottle. "I haven't seen him since first class." He took a giant swig from the bottle, eyeing Julian's pensive expression. "Have you?"

"Seen him?" Julian shakes his head, fiddling with the stem of the apple. "Negative. I ran into him in the hallway on the way to calculus, but not since then."

Derek stuffed his mouth full of more pizza, shrugging his shoulders. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing. Just throttled me for bringing up his pills or something."

"That was kind of a dick move, Jay."

Julian shrugged. "Whatever."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment as Derek ate his lunch. Julian stood up after a bit, tossing his apple at him and turning away.

Derek caught the apple, staring down at it before looking up. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To find Logan," he stated simply.

"Wait!" Derek shoved the last of his pizza into his mouth, collecting his bag and hurrying after him, falling into step beside him. "I'm coming with you."

Julian turned his head to look at his friend, quirking a brow. "Why?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "He's my friend, too, you know. And I wanna figure out what the _hell _is going on between you two, since you won't tell –"

Julian stopped in his tracks. "_What_ did you say?"

Derek gulped. "He's my friend too…?"

Julian waved him off. "No, no, after that."

"I wanna know what's going on between y—"

"That," Julian snapped. "There's nothing 'going on' between us." He began walking again. Derek stared after him for a moment before following him.

"Dude, chill out," he grumbled, stepping after him. "I didn't mean it like that."

Julian shut his eyes briefly before walking faster. "Yeah, well, it sounded like it."

"Why are you getting pissy with me? If it's not like that then you shouldn't even be getting mad."

Julian's gaze found the ground and remained there as he walked, an involuntary flush covering his cheeks.

A light seemed to go off in Derek's head once more. He leaned in closer to him, lowering his voice. "Wait. _Is_ there something going on between you? Like... like _that_? I don't understand why you would be acting like this if there weren't."

Julian stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face him. "I already told you 'no', Seigerson. Drop it."

"I thought you were straight? What the hell—"

"How many times do I have to say this? NOTHING IS GOING ON!" Julian roared, his flush deepening. Derek's mouth fell open at his defensiveness.

"Dude… sorry I asked…" he murmured as he backed slowly away from Julian, who rolled his eyes and took a step toward him.

"I don't know what is going on in your head or how you came to the conclusion that I—" He dropped his tone, eyes shifting around at the students swarming by him. "—like him, but you keep that thought in your thick little head, okay?" He leaned back, straightening his uniform out slightly and adjusting his tie. "I can't have your sick little rumor jeopardizing my reputation, or my career."

A slow, knowing grin crept over Derek's face. He took another step backward, holding his hands up in a mock-surrender fashion. "I'm not saying anything, Jules."

Julian's eyes locked on his dangerously. "I'm warning you, Derek." He scowled as he turned back around, marching off to continue his search for Logan. Derek shook his head and turned around, heading in the opposite direction. This wasn't something he wanted to be in the middle of, he decided.

Julian combed the grounds of campus with expert eyes, searching desperately for the familiar blonde bob of hair to no avail. He only had half an hour left of lunch period, so he knew he had to make this quick. After ducking in the lunch hall, scouring South and Main eagerly, he only had one other place Logan could be.

Stuart House.

He began heading toward it, peeling inside quickly and slamming the main door behind him. His eyes darted around the common area, searching the faces of the boys in there. None were Logan. He checked the coffee supply, and even storage while he was down there. Nothing. No sign of him anywhere.

"Goddamn it, Logan!" He cursed under his breath as he trotted up the stairs to the Stuart dormitories. He had to be here. There was nowhere else he could have been, unless he was hiding, but that didn't sound like Logan. His steps slowed as he reached Logan's dorm room. With a deep breath, he slowly pushes his door open, not bothering to knock. He never knocked.

Logan sat with his back against the headboard, hands woven into his hair in a distressed manner. His wide eyes were set on his knees which were pulled tightly to his chest. The Loro Piani scarf was draped across his lap. This was the first thing Julian noticed. Logan, however, didn't notice Julian's presence until he had spoken.

"What are you doing in here, Logan?"

The blonde's head jerked up, eyes meeting the voice addressing him. His hands dropped from his head into his lap, covertly tucking the scarf into a less visible fashion.

"What the hell are _you _doing in here? That's the better question. This is _my_ room, afterall."

Julian shut the door quietly, taking a step further into the room. His eyes never left the green ones staring back at him. "You're really this upset with me for bringing up your…" He motioned over to his bedside table, "Your medication?"

Logan quirked an eyebrow. "You came all this way to ask me if I'm mad at you?" He shifted a bit in his seat. "Since when does my being mad at you phase you?"

"I'm just wondering."

"That's an awful long way to walk to just be wondering about something," Logan challenged, dropping his gaze. He sighed. "To answer your question, yes. I'm rather annoyed with you right now."

Julian let a tiny smile play against his lips. "I can tell. You never miss lunch hour. It's your favorite part of the day."

Logan glanced back up to him, hearing his playful tone. Julian took a step nearer and the prefect shifted uncomfortably, the scarf lying in his lap still. He brought his knees closer to his chest in an attempt to conceal it better, which Julian seemed to take as an invitation to sit down, because he did. He looked over to him from the foot of his bed.

Silence. A long silence, then: "Sorry."

Logan's eyes narrowed. What was this? Julian Larson, the self-righteous and least humble person he'd ever known, making an apology?

"Excuse me?"

"For bringing that up. It was a low blow. I'm apologizing."

"That's not very much like you at all."

Julian sighed loudly, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose to summon calm. "Look, Logan. Are you going to accept my apology, or what?"

Logan sighed, shrugging one shoulder. "Fine."

"Is that a yes?"

"If you want it to be, sure."

Julian groaned. "Why must you be so insufferable all of the time? Is it necessary?"

"Only because you're an unchangeable asshole ninety percent of the time, yes."

"I'm trying to make things right, Logan. You aren't letting it happen."

"Why should I?"

Julian leaned closer, glaring. "You know how much it takes for me to apologize to someone."

Logan considered this for a moment. He had thought of this earlier. It was strange Julian was apologizing at all, let alone pushing Logan to accept his sentiments. The prefect sighed.

"If I tell you it's okay, will you leave me alone?"

"Only if you mean it."

Logan shifted again, parting his lips to answer him. Before he could make a sound, however, Julian had moved closer to him. He pointed to Logan's lap.

"Loro Piani?"

Logan's eyes dropped down to the scarf in his lap and he blanched. Shit. Julian had seen it, despite Logan's best efforts to conceal the garment. He remained silent, eyes frozen in fear and locked with Julian's.

Julian eyed him curiously. "You haven't given it to Kurt yet?"

Logan blinked, searching for an excuse. "I've yet to see him."

"But why is it in your lap?"

Shit. Shit, shit shit. What was he supposed to say? Admit the truth? That he was desperately clutching at it the entire night, and as soon as he got back into his room? He couldn't do that. No way.

"I… uh, I…" He stammered, unable to form the right words. Hell, there were no words.

Julian smirked. "I think you should keep the scarf. It would look good on you, and you know it. It's why I got it in the first place."

Logan glanced down at the scarf in his lap that was betraying him. He glared hard at it, remaining silent.

Julian frowned. "Or, I'll just take it back, and no one will get it. That works too…" He reached for the scarf. Logan jerked away.

"No."

The brunette quirked a brow. "No? Why?"

Logan averted his eyes. Why did Julian have to ask so many questions?

"I want it."

"Why?" Julian's smirk grew.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Squash your ego."

"I've no ego, Logan. What is it you are insinuating I am thinking, mm?"

Logan's eyes darted over to meet the other boy's.

"Nothing. Look, I accept your apology. Can you go now?"

"Can I take the scarf with me?"

"No! Stop it!"

"So you like the scarf, then?"

Logan sighed. Julian was pushing this, and it was agitating him.

"If I tell you yes, will you leave?"

"If you tell me the truth, I'll leave."

"Yes."

"Is that the truth?"

Logan slapped a hand to the side of his face in frustration. "Christ, Jules, yes, it's the truth! Now go."

Julian didn't move. He leaned closer to him. "Why do you like it so much?"

Logan was about at the end of his patience. It was wearing thin, and his medication was beginning to wear off. He just wanted to sleep. It's partially why he had come here during his lunch period in the first place. He intended to take a nap, but Julian wasn't letting this happen. He was exhausted, and sick of this.

"Because you gave it to me. I like the way it feels, and I like the way it smells like you," he blurted out, not bothering to filter his words as he normally did. He was too tired to care. His eyes bolt wide open, realizing the admittance he had just made. He met Julian's gaze, which was now wide with shock. _What_ did Logan just say to him?

"B-Because… because _what_?"

Logan gulped. Hard. Almost painfully hard.

"You heard me."

Julian's gaze never wavered. Not as he stood, and not as he slowly backed away toward Logan's door. Logan sat up straighter. "Where the hell are _you_ going?"

Julian didn't answer. He was petrified. In a matter of fifteen minutes, Julian had indirectly let slip to Derek that he may or may not have felt something for Logan, followed by Logan indirectly admitting to Julian himself that he may or may not have felt for Julian. It was too much for the actor to handle. He had to leave. He had to do what he did best when the going got rough. He had to run away. Literally.

"Answer me!" Logan demanded as he realized Julian was ignoring him. Julian remained quiet, turning and hurrying for the door without another word.

"Don't walk away from me, Larson!" Logan pleaded, throwing the scarf from his lap and standing up, hurrying after him. Julian shook his head with wide, frightened eyes.

"S-Stay … stay away, Logan."

Logan's heart sank. In all his years of having Julian's friendship, he had never said that to him. No matter how many times Logan had thrown him against walls, decked him in his jaw, called him the worst names imaginable, Julian had never said that to him. Ever. He had always been the one person who never, ever told him to keep away. And he was saying it now? After Logan's awkward slip of the tongue?

His insides twisted as he stopped dead in his tracks, unsure of what to do besides simply let Julian walk away. He had fucked up. Big time. He never should have said that to him. What a fucking idiot, he thought. With a loud grunt, he slammed his door and paced back toward his bed. Fuck classes, he thought. Fuck his grades, fuck his teachers. He didn't care. He wasn't staying awake and dealing with the horrible churning in his stomach at Julian's words. No way in hell. He stormed back to his nightstand, jerking the drawer open and pulling out four pills – twice his normal dose. He took them all at once, determined to numb himself. He couldn't deal with this. He refused to. He threw the scarf angrily away from his bed and threw himself down upon the sheets, waiting for sleep to take him from this awful, living, breathing nightmare.

He had destroyed the last relationship he would ever touch. All of his friendships had failed prior, and he clung to Julian like he was a life vest in the raging waves of his life. Now he didn't even have that.

Why should he remain awake?


	4. Time

Logan didn't wake up the rest of the evening. He saw no reason to. He knew if he woke, he'd have to face Julian, and he just wasn't ready to do that until he absolutely had to. Every time he awoke (about once every hour) he'd force himself back into a slumber, however restless that slumber might have been. This vicious circle continued for hours, and on into the night. It was 5am now, and Logan simply could not foce his eyelids to shut again, no matter how desperately he wanted to. With a defeated huff of air, he sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes as he blinked into the infinite darkness of his bedroom. Well, he thought, at least tomorrow was Saturday and he didn't have to wake up for classes anytime soon.

He ran a hand through his unkempt hair before clicking on the lamp that rested on his nightstand. His eye caught the time that was read on the manual clock ticking against his wall. Well, shit. No sense whatsoever in trying to make himself try to sleep anymore. The sun would be rising soon. He might has well follow suit. He clumsily slung his legs over the side of his bed, waiting a moment before standing. The ridiculous amounts of medication in his system were making him overwhelmingly dizzy. After the swimming sensation had subsided, he took in a deep breath as he rose from his seated position. He shuffled toward the door, opening it quietly to make his way down to the Stuart coffee supply in an attempt to wake himself fully. The door clicked shut behind him as he allowed his gaze to fall on the door in front of him. Julian's door. There was no light streaming from underneath it; he must have still been sleeping. Logan wondered cynically if he was sleeping soundly...

The prefect tore his gaze away from his door and began the short walk down the staircase to where the coffee was forever flowing. His feet drug lazily against the stiff rug over the hardwood, making an awful sound as he neared his destination. With an unenthusiastic push, the large wooden doors were open. His eyes scanned boredly for the pot of coffee, only to be met with a sight he wasn't expecting, nor one he particularly wanted to see.

Julian sat alone in the room at a near table, hunched over at least a dozen empty cups of coffee, and what appeared to be a new one. With his head resting against his hands, he looked awful and exhausted. Which was strange in itself, as Julian always made sure to look his best when in any sort of public setting. Logan didn't like this. He immediately turned on his heel to make his exit and avoid this terribly awkward situation. But Julian's overly caffeinated senses were on high alert and he was very on-edge. He heard the door creak open and immediately turned around, catching Logan's barely conscious gaze with his own bright red and bloodshot eyes due from absolutely no sleep the previous night, right before Logan had faced the other direction.

"Wright."

The prefect froze at Julian's voice. Fight or Flight reactions were taking effect; he was breaking into basic survival mode. Julian's tone chilled him and his mind was racing. Run away now; deal with this awful conversation and the even more horrid emotions he knew would surface... _later? _Watch the inevitable collapse of their friendship tumble before his eyes, now? Or later?

_Goddamn it._

His back remained to the brunette; his weak grip remained on the door handle as he mumbled his barely audible reply: "Yes?"

A grueling silence followed next. Seconds seemed like hours as the clock ticked away loudly in his ear - almost mockingy so. Logan's hand tightened around the door handle right as Julian's voice rose up.

"Come in here."

Logan could hear his clothes rustling as he turned back around in his chair, as if to suggest he needn't keep his gaze set on Logan to see if he would listen. He simply assumed he would obey.

He didn't.

"You told me to stay away," he murmured finally, gaze burning into the door.

"Come in here," Julian repeated firmly.

Logan hesitantly released the door handle, simultaneously releasing a heavy breath as he slowly turned around. His gaze rested on Julian's slumped form as he crossed the floor with delicate footing. He paused before him, widened eyes staring down at the gaze that refused to meet his.

"Well, are you going to sit?"

The blonde blinked down at him momentarily before hesitantly pulling out the chair opposite to Julian. His eyes wandered over the table top littered with coffee cups, wondering: Why was he allowing himself to endure the torture he knew was mere moments from being thrown upon him? His willingness frightened him.

Julian was silent for a long minute, running his thumbs idly aroud the rim of his fresh cup of coffee before he lifted his gaze to meet those familiar green eyes which were not obviously heavily medicated. He sighed loudly.

"I hate looking at you when you look like..._that._"

Logan immediately gathered what he was referring to. His eyes dropped to the table in an almost guilty manner. How was he meant to respond to that?

At Logan's silence, Julian tilted his head, looking up.

"Why did you take them this time?"

Logan couldn't bring himself to answer, or even look at him. Julian never asked for his reasoning behind his self-medicating; he normally just scoffed, looking disgusted. Yet this time, he just looked interested and even..._concerned?_ This caught Logan even more off-guard than he already was. He finally lifted his gaze to meet the other's.

"I didn't want to deal with it," he responded truthfully, though in a misleadingly short monotone.

"Deal with what?"

"You."

Julian frowned. "What about me?"

Logan never broke his gaze. it was already practically out in the open, he reasoned internally. No sense in continuing to dance around the truth of the matter anymore... Though it was easier said than done. He shrugged one shoulder boredly.

"You told me to stay away," the prefect stated, echoing his earlier remark.

Julian glanced down, taking another sip of his coffee and staring into the rippling chestnut color. "I did."

"Well, I didn't want to deal with it. _That._"

Both of their gazes had fixated on the table awkwardly. Neither of them knew what to say and they were both remarkably calm.

"So," Logan continued in a hushed tone, "I took them so I wouldn't have to."

"You can't always run and hide from yourself like that, Logan."

A flash of wicked green eyes flickering up to Julian; a snarky tone; "You're one to talk."

This only induced another painful silence between the two. This was horribly awkward for both parties involved, but Logan refused to stand and leave, no matter how desperately he may have wanted to at times. He simply would not give Julian that kind of satisfaction. Another reason was his curiosity. Logan was deadset on the notion that after that day, Julian probably would want absolutely nothing to do with him for days, maybe weeks. Possibly even months. Then, not even a full day later, there he was, urging him to join him at the table (to talk, as Logan had assumed, though there was hardly any communication happening). Logan wanted to know what it was Julian wanted. _Why_ was he prying?

"Well?" The blonde prompted after having had too much of this awful silence between them. "Was there a reason you called me in here other than to interrogate me about my medication?" He adjusted his posture, waiting on an answer from his caffeinated counterpart.

Julian shifted uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding his last question.

"I don't like you taking that awful shit medication because of me. That's uncalled for," Julian's tempo had changed dramatically. "Stop," he demanded, gaze still cast downward.

Logan stiffened, beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable and vulnerable. "Squash your ego," he retorted as he always did everytime Julian made even the slightest suggestion that Logan harbored any other feeling but resentment for him.

The clock was ticking loudly and slowly once more, seeming to resonate throughout the room and through his head. In his medicated fog, this sound was making him slightly dizzy again. He held the sensation at bay once more as Julian spoke to him.

"Last night," he risked a glance at him, "Did you mean... what I _think _you meant?" He asked in a hushed tone. Logan's eyes focused in on him again, realizing Julian had moved onto another topic he didn't necessarily want to relive at the time.

He struggled with the word, nearly choking on it as it left his lips.

"Yes."

In the deafening silence that followed his response, Logan could hear Julian's barely audible, sharp intake of breath; he even heard the way it hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard. Fight or Flight was nagging at him again. He was feeling extremely exposed now, and he wanted _out. _He just simply couldn't bring himself to leave. Especially not now.

Julian had no idea what to do; he could not believe what he was hearing. That short question had been plaguing him all night. It was the reason for his insomnia. He had spent the entire night in a hellish, introspective nightmare of sorts, all because of the possibility of Logan answering his question with the exact response he had just given him.

He hadn't made it this far in his mental plan to confront Logan. He always brushed away the idea of him answering as such, seeing it as such a hauntingly slim possibility. How was he meant to react now?

"How long?" Julian finally inquired in the firmest tone he could muster. His brain was on autopilot at this point; his thoughts were rapid and uncontrollable, asking the first things that came to mind.

Logan blinked up at him heavily. His eyes grew to an alarming size and he looked sincerely petrified. His lips parted to speak, but he simply could not. This was utterly cruel. Why was Julian asking him these things? These were feelings Logan never thought he would have to confront. _Ever. _He shook his head slowly, shakily managing his next words.

"D-Don't do this to me, Julian..."

"Answer the question."

Why should he answer? Logan thought. Julian was grilling him on an awful subject, giving him nothing in return. He felt he was under no obligation to answer. No way was he answering. He pushed himself back in his chair about to make his exit. This was ridiculous.

"Logan."

The prefect merely looked at him with frightened eyes, remaining deathly silent and still.

"Please," Julian pleaded softly.

He needed only a seconds hesitation of thought before Logan found himself moving back down into the chair and closer to the table. Okay, fine. He would stay. But there was no way in hell he was going to answer that quest-

"How long?" Julian repeated, his tone almost desperate. Almost.

Logan swallowed hard. _Fuck it._

"Years."

"How many?"

Julian was using as little words as possible to convey his message; get the information that he desired out of Logan as painlessly as possile. But they were the most poisonous questions Logan had been asked to date.

"Going on three."

Julian winced, leaning back in his chair. "Th-that long...?"

Logan rolled his eyes lightly. "As if you didn't know." Julian merely blinked up at him, eyes silently urging an elaboration of Logan's words.

The prefect hissed, leaning forward. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not what they like to call a 'nice person.' I don't just _do_ nice things for people, like I do for you."

Julian considered this for a moment. This was true, but he had never really put much thought into Logan's motives. He learned that was usually a bad idea.

Logan drummed his fingers against the table impatiently. "Have you anything to say?" He prompted in a strained whisper.

Julian locked eyes with Logan in a near challenging fashion, speaking quietly as he leaned forward.

"Logan, what I-"

A sound interrupted the insanely tense atmosphere of the room as a few Stuarts shuffled into the room together to begin their morning routine with a healthy dose of caffeine. The sound of footsteps and a clumsy opening of the doors startled the on-edge celebrity. He all but jumped out of his chair, spinning around and cutting himself off mid-sentence simultaneously. In this jittery process, he managed to knock his nearly full cup of steaming coffee off of the table and into his lap, dripping all over the floor.

"_SHIT_!" Julian screeched, sliding back in his chair and rising quickly from the table in one fluid motion. Logan's widened eyes followed the man's spastic movements although he remained in his seat. His eyes slowly found the cause of Julian's sudden startlement.

The boys who had entered must have felt the undeniable tension between the two seated at the table (well, now only one) as they kept a noticeable distance between themselves and the other two, moving directly to the coffee pot.

Julian hissed and bitched a moment longer at the deep brown coffee stain drenching his slightly wrinkled, white, Dalton issue button up before he grabbed his blazer, which was draped across the chair, rushing toward the door.

Logan immediately stood, eyes locked on the fleeing figure. "Where the hell are you going?"

Julian didn't answer. He didn't even look back.

"Goddamn it, Julian!" Logan cursed under his breath as he stormed out after him.

"If I can't leave, neither can you!" The blonde yelled after Julian's frantic form, which by now had made it halfway up the stairs to the dormitories. Logan had stopped at the base of the stairs, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

Julian froze. He let out a loud breath before spinning around and rushing down two or three of the steps in Logan's direction, pointing toward the coffee supply.

"You expect me to continue this conversation with random first-years in the same room?" He hissed breathlessly.

"Who gives a shit?" Logan rolled his eyes, taking a step up. "They're _first-years_."

"My life gets out and around far too easily in this school, you know this. And then next thing you know, the entire country knows how I spent my Tuesday nights."

"And?" The blonde prompted.

"I don't want gossipy children running wild with rumour."

Logan quirked a brow. "Rumour?"

"My reputation is _everything, _Logan."

Logan's gaze turned icy with instant, bitter realization and understanding. Had Julian been seconds away from making a confession of his own before being rudely interrupted? Had Logan's admittance and vulnerability inspired Julian's own?

The look in Julian's earnest, frightened eyes confirmed Logan's curiosity.

"I-I can't do this right now, Logan," Julian remarked quietly, taking a few steps backward up the staircase.

"For the love of Christ, will you _stop _running away from _everything_?" The prefect was almost begging at this point. He _needed _ to know what Julian was going to say before the other students had barged in.

Julian stared back into Logan's desperate, stormy green eyes. He could see genuine emotion cracking through the horrible wall of medication over his eyes. Julian wished he didn't notice. He couldn't stand to see that. He merely shook his head, slowly and almost apologetically, mouth ajar as if he intended to speak, but he certainly could not. He turned around and hurried up the last few stairs and toward his room, leaving Logan standing in the suffocating dust. Again.

As soon as he heard Julian's door clicking shut, Logan's eyes slowly did the same. He remained there briefly, fuming internally before slamming his fist down onto the sturdy guardrail of the staircase. No sense in chasing after him now, Logan thought. Julian wasn't going to say anything else about this. Not now. Not anymore. Even if _he_ was the one to instigate this conversation to begin with.

Logan turned around and trotted back down the stairs defeatedly. He pushed his way out of the entrance door to Stuart, stepping out into the early morning sun. He needed to be away from this. All of this. Julian. Stuart as a whole; he needed to think, and if he spent anymore time cooped up in his room with his thoughts, he would surely snap.

A chilling breeze picked up and Logan hugged himself hard as he made his way toward the first serene location that came to mind: the Memorial Garden behind Hanover. He had hardly made it twenty feet in the direction of his destination before he was stopped in his tracks by an eerily familiar voice addressing him from behind.

"Hey, Logan..."

This voice had plagued him for months now. Was it real? Was he hallucinating? He paused, inhaling deeply as he turned around. His green eyes met a set of brilliant blue ones.

_Those _blue eyes.

Logan's heart sank. _Oh, no._

"Kurt..."


	5. The Finality

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews and criticisms thus far. They have helped immensely shape this chapter and are beyond appreciated. Furthermore, I regret to inform that I will no longer have access to type any following chapters for quite some time, so I hope this resolution will satisfy until I can update again, if I choose to. I may just end it here. Anyway, thanks again for your continued reading and reviewing. I appreciate you all dearly, and I hope you enjoy. xx**

_What the hell, Julian? Pull yourself together. Stop this; these thoughts. Why are you pacing? Why is this stressing you so much? Just go sit down. Sit. No, I can't sit. I can't. What if those first years heard me talking to Logan? They did. They had to. They were looking right at us. No, they were looking at us because you screamed like a girl and spilled coffee all over yourself. Idiot. Such an idiot. Why did I even tell him to come in? He was going to leave. I should have let him leave. I should have…_

"…and then I just let him leave. Just... He just… left. Up the stairs. And I let it happen," Logan mumbled into the harsh wind hitting his face.

Derek sat beside him on the frigid bench, hugging himself tightly. "So… there _is_ something going on between you two, then?"

Logan stared blankly in front of him. "Yes, D. That's what I just spent the last twenty minutes explaining to you," he responded boredly.

"Right."

"It's not like it matters," he continued bitterly, "He didn't like the things I was saying, anyhow. It freaked him out, especially when the first years came in. He didn't want them hearing something that could 'damage his reputation,'" he commented in a mocking tone, still staring straight ahead of him.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Lo."

Logan's head jerked up to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Derek shrugged. "Everyone has secrets they don't want some people to know."

"Are you suggesting—"

"Don't make me break Jules' confidence, Logan," Derek cut him off sharply, with a tone that was all too knowing.

"Derek, please. I need you to elaborate. Fuck his confidence."

"Dude, no. Forget I said anything."

"Derek, _please._"

"Let it be."

"Derek—!"

"Drop it!"

Logan stared at the brunette's chill-bitten face incredulously. Derek's gaze left Logan's, dropping down to stare at his knees. He could feel Logan's hungry gaze on him. But he wouldn't crack. He couldn't.

_What does he even want with me, anyway? I mean, Jesus, he's spent the entirety of this year pining over Kurt. The years prior, he spent all over Blaine. He said he's… liked me, or whatever, for three years. Three. If he wanted me, he could have had me. But, no. He chose them. He chose them, Julian. Not you. And then, suddenly, he decides to tell you he wants you. Why the hell should you believe him? He has Kurt. He still wants Kurt. Goddamn it! He fucking wants Kurt. Get that through your head. He's just going after you because Kurt turned him down. You're nothing. You're just a rebound for Kurt…_

"And then, to top it all off, Kurt came to see me this morning." Logan's eyes had fixated on the icy ground again.

"Did he, now? I thought you two weren't talking anymore."

Logan chuckled. "I thought so, too."

"What did he say, then?"

Logan went quiet, remembering the conversation. He sat up a bit straighter. "He and Blaine have broken up," he began in a monotone with a glance to his friend, "temporarily, he says."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "And he's telling you this, why?"

The Prefect leaned back against the bench with a nonchalant shrug of his right shoulder.

"He said he wants to be friends again."

There was no way to tell if it was the bitter cold, or the anger that flooded through Derek at mention of this, that caused the cherry red to cover Derek's cheeks. One would be safe to assume the latter, however.

"Hell no," Derek sneered.

"What?"

"No. You told him no, didn't you?"

Silence.

"Well?"

"I.. you know.. well, I…" Logan stammered, avoiding his gaze.

"Logan!" Derek screeched, sounding like a disappointed mother.

"What?" Logan sat up, staring him down. "What the hell did you expect me to say, Derek?" He shut his eyes tightly, his tone softening dramatically. "I..I can't help myself around him. You know this…"

Derek rolled his eyes, standing up to face him, glowering down at his best friend. "Listen, Logan. I'm not going to sit here and watch you go through this again," he points off in the vague direction of Windsor House. "I had to reap the consequences of this last time. The _last _time you pined hopelessly over Kurt. The _last _time he all but strung you along, dropping anything to do with you once he got bored. You think I want to go through that again? You think I want _you_ to go through that again? It's not worth it," Derek had begun to pace by now. "The times he made you happy; can you count them on more than one hand? The times you've sung together; they don't make up for the times he tore you down relentlessly," He pauses in front of him. "_Relentlessly." _He began pacing again. "Besides, you want Julian now." Derek didn't ask the last part. It was just a statement; fact to him now.

Logan watched him incredulously as he paced around and occasionally got in his face. Derek knew better than to argue any point with Logan. Logan always got his way. Always. So when he argued this time, Logan had no idea how to react. He merely sat there, mouth agape, as he listened to the horribly true realities Derek was shoving into his face.

"But, Kurt is—"

"Kurt is nothing. Leave him to Blaine."

"But, Derek. I can't just forget—"

"_Yes, _you can," the brunette hissed. "You can't have them both, Logan."

"Listen to you. You have a dozen girls on your arm at any given moment and you're telling me this. You fucking hypocrite. I've no reason to listen to you any further," He stood, sizing Derek up with his eyes.

"Like hell you don't. I'm the only voice of reason you have in your life, and you damn well know this. That's why you called me to come talk to you in the first place, yeah?" Derek retorted, stepping up to meet his challenging stance.

"Don't puff your chest out at me, Derek. You're not hot shit."

"Not trying to be, Lo. Just trying to make a point."

Their eyes were locked in an unblinking stare for a long moment before the blonde sighed, pushing him hard in the chest and sitting back down on the bench.

Derek stumbled a bit, but merely dusted himself off, sitting back down beside him. "S'what I thought…"

_I wonder where he is now. He's not in his room, I know that. It's too close to me for his liking. God, how predictable is he? He's probably not even on campus anymore, that twat. He's run off and hidden somewhere, I know it. I wonder what he's thinking? I bet he regrets telling me. He's probably already called Derek up, and is telling him these awful things about me. Fuck, I swear to God if Derek opens his mouth about what I've told him… FUCK! I can't do this. _

"So is he still up there?" Derek asked after a long and rather uncomfortable silence between the two. "In his room, I mean."

Logan shrugged. "It's been two hours. How am I supposed to know where he is?" He snapped back.

Derek shook it off. "You know, it's not doing you much good talking to _me_ about all of this. And I'm fucking freezing out here."

"Go inside, then."

"You're the one who needs to go inside."

"I'm not cold."

"I don't care."

Logan's frigid stare found his best friend's. "What's it to you?"

Derek sighed, pressing a finger to his temple. "I'm just… I've had it up to here with being in the middle of you and Jules' little tiffs. And this... well, this is bigger than a tiff and I swear on whatever you consider holy that if _you _don't go fix this, if _you _don't go sort this out I will slaughter the both of you," he threw his hands up dramatically. "I'm done."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Some friend you are."

"Oh, fuck off, Logan. If telling you to man up and fight your own battles makes me a shit friend, then so be it. You have to do this. I can't do this for you, and I can't do this for Julian. This is all on you two."

The Prefect blinked over at his friend. "Julian doesn't want me, Derek," he reminds him in an almost sad tone. "Julian doesn't want me, and Kurt does. You see the obvious choice, don't you?"

"Kurt is hardly an option. Let's not fool ourselves."

"And Julian is? He fucking stormed out of the room, D."

"You know as well as I why he did that."

"Stop with this Ghandi bullshit. What I know is that Julian is straight. Julian is also a self-righteous, pompous, run-of-the-mill celebrity. He can get what he wants. He knows this. If he wanted something – if he wanted _me – _he would have come after me. Don't you see?"

Derek shook his head. "That isn't necessarily true."

"You know something I don't," Logan stated in an accusing tone, leaning nearer him. "That's why you're pushing this, isn't it? Derek, did Julian say something to you?"

Derek remained silent. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to break his friend's confidence, either.

"Derek. I asked you a question."

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" Derek prompted as he stood and grabbed Logan by the arm. "C'mon."

Logan snarled up at him as he was tugged out of his seat. "Find out for myself?" He hissed at his friend, jerking his arm out of Derek's grasp. "I'm _not _going up there, D. Stop this."

The brunette boy rolled his eyes. "For once in your life, Logan, you don't have a say in the matter. You're doing this," he barked, taking Logan's arm again, more firmly this time. He marched off in the direction of Stuart house, dragging Logan fast beside him. "So, just shut up, Logan. You need to get this sorted."

"Who the hell are you to tell me what I need and needn't do?" The blonde howled in his ear, trying and failing to tug himself free once more from Derek's surprisingly tight hold on him.

"Just shut up."

_What am I supposed to do now? Sit in my room and think about this all day? Fuck that. No. But I can't leave. What if he's out there? I mean… I do kind of want to see him… just to get this over with. But, damn it. That's heavy. That's a lot to deal with. I cannot deal with that. Not yet. …. Can I? I mean, I'll have to eventually. I can't hide from him forever. Shit, you said it yourself. He probably even isn't on campus anymore. He's afraid. Remember? Afraid. I should go on a walk. Clear my head. Maybe I'll get some coffee and go for a drive. Just get out of this room. You are going crazy in this room. Go. Now._

"I doubt he's even still in his room," Logan reasoned hopelessly as they marched off toward the ominous looking Stuart House.

"You said it yourself; it's been two hours. How are you supposed to know where he is?" Derek retorted in an annoyed tone. He had no intention to let Logan walk away from this one so easily. He hardly had the patience to deal with this for the next few weeks.

_You've got everything you need. Money. Keys. Hell, you have a private jet if you really want to run. Just go. Get out of here. Go think. Go do something other than sit on this bed and feel sorry for yourself. What's stopping you? You won't run into him. Dalton has a big campus. Just go._

"I don't fucking want to go, Derek! Stop!"

"Stop dragging your feet, Logan! You're acting like a whiny child!" Derek bellowed as he pulled him roughly up the stairs of the dormitories.

"I'm acting as such because _I don't want to go where you are taking me._ You can't force me to do things like this!"

"I'm not forcing you. Well, okay. Maybe I am, but it's for your own good. You'll thank me one day."

"Fuck off, you self-righteous bastard!"

"No need for name calling, dude. Look. We're here. Was that so hard?"

The Prefect jerked his arm away as soon as Derek's grip had loosened even in the slightest. He rubbed his arm as he turned to face the door in front of him. His gaze fell down to the light streaming out from underneath the door, and his heart began to pound loudly against his chest.

"He's still in there," Derek whispered, echoing Logan's thoughts.

"Yeah, D. I can see that," the blonde answered shortly, his gaze burning into the door.

"Well? Go on then."

_Just open the door. That's the only thing stopping you from leaving, Julian. This wooden door to the outside. Stop staring at it. It's not going to do anything. It's not going anywhere. But you are. You're leaving. Right now. You have your keys in your pocket. Open this door. Run. Go. Before he finds you. Don't look back. Just go. Just open the door._

"Just open the door, Lo."

"I can't."

"It's not hard. Put your hand on the handle…" Derek reached for Logan's hand, pushing it toward the handle.

Logan retracted his hand quickly. "Jesus, Derek, I've got this, alright?"

Derek brought his hand back, folding his arms across his chest. "Do you?"

Those green eyes never left the bold framing of Julian's door. Of course he didn't 'have this.' This was ridiculous. He didn't even want to be here in the first place. With a short glance over his shoulder, he soon realized Derek wasn't going anywhere. Not until Logan was in Julian's room. He had taken his stance and was holding it firmly.

Logan groaned loudly, looking back over to the door.

"You're just going to stand there, aren't you."

"Yup."

"Until I go in there."

"Mhm."

"Goddamn it, Derek," he hissed under his breath as his hand reached for the door handle. "Whatever. Fine. Here we go…"

_Here we go…_

Logan's hand snapped back as soon as it had rested against the handle, startled, as he watched the golden door knob slowly turning before him. He let out a sharp hiss and stepped backward, stumbling into Derek, who caught him. The door slowly swung open, revealing an equally surprised looking Julian.

"Logan?"

"…hi."

Derek released Logan, pushing him forward a bit. "Hey, Jules."

Julian smiled endearingly at Derek. "Hey, D. What.. I mean…" He looked back at Logan, who was staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

"Logan wants to talk to you."

Julian's eyes remained on the blonde boy in front of him as he responded to Derek. "Does he?"

Derek nodded, eyes on Logan as well. "Definitely. I was about to head out for breakfast, then I, uh, ran across him." He paused, watching the way Julian and Logan were staring each other down with equally frightened looks. "So, uh. I'll leave you to it, then. Do you guys want anything from Cassie's?" He asked rather awkwardly.

Julian shook his head in response to Derek, blinking down at Logan. "No, I think we'll be fine."

Logan nodded. "Fine, thanks…"

"Right. Well," Derek took a step backward toward the staircase. "I'll, uh, I'll just be—" he motioned back behind him as he continued taking steps back, before turning around and shoving his hands into his pockets and hurrying down the stairs and away from the warzone.

Julian's eyes never left the prefect's. "Well, um. Want to come in?"

Logan hesitated for a brief second before pushing past him and ducking into his room without another word. Julian let out a loud breath, closing his eyes briefly before turning and following him into the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, Julian turned to face Logan, who had moved directly to the window in Julian's room and was staring after Derek, watching his form get smaller and smaller as he headed to the gates of Dalton.

"So is he your chaperone now?" Julian inquired, taking a step toward him.

"Not in the mood, Julian."

"I was just asking…"

Logan crossed his arms, staring past his vague reflection in the window as Derek completely disappeared. He slowly turned around, meeting Julian's gaze.

"He said I have to talk to you."

"Since when does Derek tell you what to do?"

"He doesn't."

"Then why are you here?"

Logan's eyes shut as his head rested back a bit. "You really are dense, aren't you." His eyes opened as he let out a loud breath. "I wasn't finished with our conversation from earlier. I told you this when you ran off." He motioned to the door with one hand before promptly folding it back across his chest. "Speaking of, where were you going when we got here?"

"Out."

"No shit."

"For coffee."

"You didn't have enough this morning?"

"I guess not."

Their gazes had found each other again, locking into another cold, unwavering stare.

"Well," Julian began, breaking the stare and throwing his hands up slightly. "You wanted to talk," He sat down on the white couch near him, motioning for Logan to do the same. "So, talk."

Logan eyed the couch. "I've already done my share of talking. It's your turn."

Julian was silent for a long moment, absentmindedly picking at a string unraveling on the couch cushion he was sitting on. "I've nothing to say to you."

"Like hell you don't."

The brunette looked up at him with tired, red eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You were going to say something. Before those kids came in. You were going to tell me something. That's why you ran."

"That's a load of shit."

Logan didn't even bother to respond to that. He knew as well as Julian did that this wasn't true. He was waiting for Julian to say something else.

"Fine. Whatever," Julian mumbled after a moment. Logan had to put serious effort into not letting the smirk touch his lips at this. He sat at the other end of the couch, crossing one leg over his knee and resting his right hand against his ankle. He cleared his throat expectantly, not risking a glance at the other boy.

Julian also stared ahead of him. _This is it. What you've been thinking about all morning. It's here. Just fucking do it. Talk. Get this over with. _

They sat in a long silence for what seemed hours. Logan was growing impatient. He had never been one to beat around the bush, so to speak, and he wasn't planning to start now. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Let me make this easier, so we can both move on with our lives: You don't… don't want— don't love— I mean, you don't see me, how I see you," Logan paused for a moment, chancing a glance over at him. "Yes?"

"No."

Logan's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary before he couldn't take it anymore. He looked back ahead of him, drumming his fingers against his ankle. _Whoa. _

"N-no?"

"That's what I said."

Logan's heart was banging loudly against his chest again now. Shit. He wasn't prepared for this. So convinced that Julian would never want anything to do with him, romantically speaking, he wasn't prepared to hear that. Derek had been right. He _knew _Derek knew something.

"And you told Derek, before you told me?"

Julian's brow furrowed, his lips sneering as his head jerked around to look at him. "He fucking told you?"

"Well. That confirms it."

"Goddamn it," Julian murmured under his breath.

There was another uncomfortable silence between the two, both of them sitting and staring down at the floor in front of them. Neither knew what to say; it was obvious, and it was awkward.

_Well… it's out in the open. _Julian thought. _What now? _

The brunette cleared his throat. The blonde remained silent, his unblinking gaze cast on the plush carpet. Julian was the first to break this awful silence.

"How's Kurt?"

Logan's head perked up in a fashion that made Julian regret asking.

"Why are you asking about Kurt?" Logan asked, his voice coming out in a half-whisper.

"Well, to the best of my knowledge, you've been pining over him for the last year," Julian lifted his gaze to meet Logan's. "And now you're… well, you're coming to me… about this… I just… I don't know… figured something was wrong…or…" He cleared his throat again. "How's Kurt?"

Logan's eyes narrowed onto the brunette before setting his gaze back onto his feet. "He's fine."

Julian nodded. "Well, good."

Logan scoffed slightly, leaning back comfortably against the couch. "He and Blaine have broken up," he added in a short tone. Julian's posture remained rigid.

"Oh."

"He came to see me this morning."

"I see."

"Said he wants to start talking to me again."

Julian's head tilted in his direction. "You two weren't speaking?"

Logan had forgotten he neglected to tell Julian about he and Kurt's blowout a few months back. As far as Julian knew, Logan was still seeing him on occasion. The Prefect shut his eyes hard. He knew what this must have looked like to Julian. He knew what was coming.

"So, wait," The brunette sat at attention, looking incredulous. "You and Kurt… you two haven't been speaking. For.. for how long?" The suspicion in Julian's tone was too present for Logan's liking.

"Months. Three and a half, to be precise," the boy stated simply.

Julian was silent for a long moment. Logan waited patiently for the blow up.

"Is that why you're telling me this, then?" Julian all but growled after some time, stormy eyes set on his own lap. "Because Kurt wanted nothing to do with you?" A bitter laugh left the boys lips. "Figures. I can't believe I fucking— I sat here and believed you actually—" The boy laughed again, shaking his head and standing up, not looking at him. "Wow. Get out."

Logan shut his eyes briefly before opening them wide and looking to the boy towering over him. "Julian, hold on a second. You don't understand, I—"

"_Out, _Logan."

"I swear to you, it isn't what you think it is," Logan protested, sitting forward a bit, staring into the eyes that once again refused to stare back.

"No? Then what is it, Logan? Pray tell."

The Prefect hesitated for a minute, searching for the words to properly explain himself. He glanced up at Julian just in time to catch his scoff. "I— Julian, I've known you for years," he swallowed hard. "I've wanted… I've _wanted _you for years. Kurt… well, Kurt distracted me from you for some time…" He stares the other boy down. "I thought you were straight. I thought… I thought, how can I be..." he hesitated with the words, spitting them out clumsily, "_in love _with someone who is not only straight… but never here?" He took a deep breath before continuing. "So I had Kurt. Kurt's gay. Kurt's here. Kurt was what you weren't."

Julian had begun making his way back to the couch by now, appearing to listen intently to Logan's words. Logan's eyes followed him until he was sitting before continuing. "So," he sighed out, shifting in the seat he was sitting, "When… when Kurt and I stopped associating… I was forced to think of you again. He… he couldn't distract me away from you anymore, as much as I wanted a distraction. I had nothing. I have to see you every day." His eyes find Julian's reddened ones. "Do you fucking realize how hard this is for me?" He ended in an almost inaudible whisper.

Julian was pale by now. His red eyes stuck out vibrantly against his whitened skin. If Logan was being honest - which Julian assumed he was, as he was always painfully honest with him - then it all made sense. All of it. Years of questions and wondering all seemed to dawn on him in this moment, and he shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

"So, you mean to say Kurt meant nothing?" He asked quietly.

Logan quickly shook his head – almost too quickly. "Not saying that, no… I did care for him. I _do_ care for him. And at one point, I may have even loved him. But…"

"But?"

Logan shook his head again, but slowly this time. "Never mind it."

Julian decided not to push. Logan was already exposing himself, he thought, and he knew that was something that Logan found difficult to do at times, especially exposing this much of him all at once.

Julian simply nodded, crossing one leg over his knee, mirroring Logan's earlier position.

"I'm doing an awful lot of talking," Logan mumbled after a moment, bringing his hand up to scratch at his blonde locks awkwardly. Julian winced a bit, knowing this was his cue to explain himself, as Logan had just done.

"What is it you're expecting me to say?"

"Tell me you understand," Logan said in a half-whisper.

"Understand?"

"What I just told you. Tell me you understand what I just said."

_That's all? This is all he wants? Easy enough_, Julian thought.

"Okay. I understand."

"And?"

Julian's eyes narrowed. "And what?"

Logan's head turned to face him. "Give _me _something to better understand_ you_. Understand this."

The brunette shifted uncomfortably under Logan's gaze. "Orientation," he began after a moment of thought. "Do you remember freshman orientation?"

Logan allowed a smile to play against his lips. "Of course I do."

Julian gave a short nod. "Me too. I'll never forget it. The day I met you," he risked a glance up at the other boy. "The day I began questioning everything about me. What I wanted. Who I was."

Logan's smile had dropped by this point, and he was staring at his feet.

"Since that day," Julian continued, "I've spent every minute around you in this… this hellish, introspective nightmare. This… this constant questioning. Constant running away from the answers I didn't like to hear. The fact that I was…" he paused, seeming to choke on the words as they rose in his throat. "falling for a boy." Cold, tanned hands reached out to grasp pale, warm ones. Logan froze at the feel of this contact. Julian was showing affection. Logan couldn't comprehend it properly.

"Do you understand, Logan, why I ran all the time?" He asked in an almost desperate tone. Logan's gaze remained locked on the floor as Julian's hands tightened around his. "Do you understand me now? All of our past indiscretions… _do you understand_?"

He did. It all came down on him now, and he even found himself mentally sympathizing with him. Logan had had the luxury of being sure of himself from day one. He always knew what he wanted; always knew how to get it. He always had a certain, unshakeable confidence in himself. It was obvious now, that despite the actor's public image, despite the hardened exterior he presented so fully, Julian Armstrong-Larson was just a confused boy still in the midst of figuring himself out. Logan certainly could not fault him for that.

"I do," Logan responded shortly, only now meeting the other's gaze. They held each other's eyes for a long moment, as if desperately trying to convey through their stares what they failed to convey in words.

"Logan, I—"

Logan didn't let him finish. He had said all he needed to say in Logan's eyes. No use in torturing either of them any longer. Instead, Logan took the earlier display of affection from Julian as a sign that this would be okay. That what he was about to do would be accepted.

With only a second's hesitation, the blonde loosened his hand from Julian's grasp. Leaning forward, his green eyes frantically searched the frightened, brown ones that were now mere inches from his own. There was absolute silence in the room, and Logan wondered if Julian could hear the achingly loud pounding of his heart against his ribcage as he closed the painfully short distance between their lips.

Julian's eyes shot wide open in… shock? Surprise? Resentment? He pulled away from Logan, eyes unblinking. Logan's eyes opened halfway to gauge the reaction that obviously wasn't a good one.

"What are you doing, Logan?" Julian whispered breathlessly.

Logan merely shook his head. "Jules, just…" he didn't finish his sentence, but leaned forward once more, pressing his lips against the other's.

This time, Julian didn't object. The boys eyes fluttered closed, allowing himself to be consumed by the boy's lips, his scent, the feel of his hand rising to caress his cheek…

As Julian sank into the kiss, Logan shifted his position, dropping his hand to rest on the couch beside Julian, the other shakily snaking around Julian's middle as he began leaning him back onto the incredibly plush couch. Julian's heart was beating so hard, he thought it would stop at any minute. What was happening? What was Logan doing? His hand flew up to grip the back of the couch, internally torn. Succumbing to Logan meant succumbing to his feelings for the boy. It meant the point of no return. It was finality. But as Logan planted kisses along the boy's jawline and down his neck, gently grazing his teeth against his skin, Julian couldn't resist him any longer.

A quiet groan left the brunette's throat as Logan hit his weak spot. How could Logan possibly know this was his kryptonite? Being kissed at his throat… Logan had never been told this, had never seen this. He just knew, and he focused his attentions there as Julian's back landed against the couch, his grip on the back of the sofa falling weak as he gave in.

"I love you," Logan whispered against Julian's heated skin between kisses. The actor threw his head back against the cushion, arching his neck into the feel of his lips, chest already heaving with ragged breath. This was it. This was the start of something Julian was afraid he could never finish. Logan had spoken the words that sold it all. The finality. It was real, it was imminent. And as Logan's hands slid up to pull the collar of his shirt down, kissing affectionately along the boy's prominent collarbone, Julian let slip the words to seal the deal.

"I love you, too."


End file.
